


Bad Habits Are Hard To Get Out Of When They're Coping Mechanisms.

by abadeerly



Series: bhahtgoowtcm [1]
Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Use, Drugs, F/F, Fluff, Mentions of alcohol, Overworking, Smoking, bonnie is a dork, marcy is the Indie Grunge aesthetic I want to achieve, other bad habits, rape mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abadeerly/pseuds/abadeerly
Summary: I apparently like long titles.





	1. Chapter One - Marceline

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off Moose Bloods entire collection of songs.

Maybe she knew she wasn't supposed to know. It _was_ tucked away in the deep metaphor which was life, meaning that she definitely shouldn't have figured it out, that much she knew. But figuring something out and understanding are two very different things. 

Marceline took a drag from her cigarette, not bothering to look over her shoulder into the restaurant at the man who had worked so hard to get a date with her, just so he could talk to the cute girl behind the counter. It was a shame --really, it was, Marceline thought --to have spent money on a five star restaurant to drink and flirt at the very free, quite separate bar. 

She knew that this had been his plan all along; the sleazy smile and the way he didn't even bother to get her number showed his true intentions. Marceline never passed up on free food, and wine, though, so she said nothing and looked back out to the streets. 

Understanding was a whole different concept. She knew that this was all a little too much. The guy, the five star hotel, the girl behind the bar, the stupid itchy red velvet dress that cost more than the seating at the one time dinner date to the restaurant, but she also understood that this was all necessary for her adjustment into the city. 

The cigarette was soon resulted into a stub that crumpled under her uncomfortable heels and Marceline found herself walking back inside to the now empty table by the window. The one with a nice view and all. 

The half finished bottle of wine felt all too familiar in her hand as she waltzed over to her date, still trying to win over the pretty barista. 

"I'm leaving," she stated smoothly, all too aware that she looked like some cliche alcoholic with poor life choices. 

The man stiffened obviously around his drink and his ego, and nodded her way. "You want me to call a cab, or something?" Marceline wanted to snort but found herself far too drained to get into some sort of squabble over the mans carefully chose concern.

She smiled all the same and shook her head. "I'm not heading home yet; there's a party a few blocks away and a guest list with my name on it." And free booze, she almost added. 

Marceline left without any hesitation on her part, bottle of wine in hand and a need to light another cigarette itching away in her other. The previously mentioned itchy red dress did nothing to stop the bitter cold breeze of the night as she left the restaurant, but the wine still had time to kick in and the party probably hadn't even started yet. 

So she continued to drink the wine that she had been drinking for the past three hours and was frankly leaving a terrible after taste in her mouth, and found herself walking down the street to Edward Fallon's house.Marceline had barely even stepped foot onto the premises when the upstairs window shattered from above her, a tattered brown couch following after shards of glass and taking refuge in one of the bushes in the front garden. Marceline arched her brow but carried on all the same.

Once indoors, Marceline felt as though she should leave the same way the couch did; most of the people invited were sat around the living room table, passing around a joint and drinking cheap beer, the kitchen seemed to be being used for coke lines and booze storage, like all kitchens should be if you asked most of the frat boys who'd been invited. 

Marceline strode right up to a red headed boy holding one of the three joints being passed around, and plucked it right out of his slanted mouth. She took an immediate drag from it and took no notice in the circle jerk of teens around her. 

"Aren't you all too young to be smoking this shit?" She asked after another drag. 

"Fuck you," the red haired boy replied. "Aren't you a little too old to be at a party?" _Ouch_. Marceline almost laughed, but then an arm was around her shoulder and the joint was taken from her by a hand with an all too familiar rose tattoo. 

Edward Fallon was smiling at her behind red eyes and a new scar on his chin to accompany the two others above his brow. 

"Abadeer, it's been too long!" He laughed, hand tightening and loosening on her shoulder as he shoved the joint in his mouth. "Is Brad here giving you trouble?" 

_Brad_ huffed and turned around to grumble and close in on himself in the circle.  

Marceline took back the joint with pride and lead Ed back towards to kitchen from where he most probably emerged from. 

"I brought the classy shit," she presented the wine. "Where's Kei?" 

Ed's eyes rolled up in thought, lips mouthing sentences not yet said before he focused back on Marceline. "Upstairs." 

She was about to thank him, but then found herself being pushed away by a group of frat boys who were trying to get Ed to watch something or other. 

Marceline took the message and figured that she had a long night ahead of her, so she headed past the girl snorting coke and headed upstairs in search of her friend to shit talk the guy who asked her on a date. 


	2. Chapter Two - Bonnibel

The lab was clean and uncluttered, finally, and all mentions of anyone working late were brushed under the rug. 

Maybe after so many nights of working late she'd get promoted, or forever be teased with the title of 'mad scientist' she'd been given during her days at school.

Bonnibel Butler sighed around the pen in her mouth and decided that maybe the thesis she was working on could wait until the next morning. Possibly. 

One of her fellow employees cleared his throat from where he stood behind her. "Bonnie," he began, only to be shushed by the young scientist. " _Bonnie_ ," he pressed. 

"Braco, for the last time I'm okay with staying a bit longer, I swear." She was close to her next breakthrough, maybe staying for a few more hours wouldn't hurt. The mans face fell a little, and he began fiddling with the buttons on his lab coat as he usually did when he had something else to say. But he remained hidden behind his mop of short brown hair and glasses and sat back down at his desk.

Bonnibel only wanted to stay a tiny bit longer, anyway, maybe until one so she could at least get eight hours of sleep for her part time job at the library.

She assumed Braco had finally given up, because when Bonnibel's eyes stung every time she blinked he was nowhere to be seen. 

 _Shit_ , he was supposed to be her ride home, was supposed to stay with her until she got too tired. 

Bonnibel thought about calling someone when she caught sight of the time on her lock screen. Half past three in the morning was never a good time to phone anyone up; never mind ask them for a ride home from the lab. 

So she locked up by herself and left the place to its own accord, stepping out into the cold morning and really wishing that by some miraculous coincidence, one of her friends was waiting for her.

Instead, her phone started buzzing and the tune of an all too familiar song settled in her brain, making her feel sick to her stomach. 

Who else would ring at gone three in the morning? 

Bonnibel finally gave up when she was half way down the street and the song was _still_ taunting her. 

"Marceline?"

There was a crackle at the end of the phone, as if for once Marceline didn't know what to say. "You answered?" It came out as a question, followed with a hum and some more rustling. "What're you doing right now?" 

Bonnibel sighed gently before replying. "I'm on the phone with an idiot," she paused, going over her options of what else to say. "and I'm just heading home." 

"Oh. Hey, where are you? I'll pick you up." Marceline sounded genuine all of a sudden, but Bonnibel couldn't quite figure out what was behind her words. 

"Hm, shouldn't you be asleep?" She said politely, instead, subtly trying to change the topic. 

"I could ask you the same thing." Marceline was good at matching her bitchyness and being so damn subtle about it. Bonnibel assumed it was because of how much they were around each other as kids.

Once again Bonnibel was left with options. Option number one was to let the damn girl pick her up and potentially open old wounds that she had desperately tried to stitch back up. Option number two was to go home alone, and risk potentially getting mugged, raped or killed. Option number three was to block the other girls number and check if she had money for a taxi, which she probably didn't. 

"I'm just outside the lab." And then she hung up and sat down on the curb and waited with baited breath for the evil queen to take her from her castle.

Bonnibel hoped the traffic was bad.


	3. Chapter three - A Ride Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half way there folks!  
> Also, watch out for me potentially updating the chapters to add in more detail and such.

When Marceline drove up the street, slowing down just outside the science centre, she wasn't surprised to see the depressing looking blob of pink sitting on the curb at the end of the street, head in hands and cheeks puffed as she blew a strand of her strawberry blonde hair out of her face.

Marceline drove a little closer, trying hard to focus as she honked her horn and pulled up a few feet away from the other girl. Bonnibel glanced up, surprise crossing her tired features as if she didn't expect Marceline to actually pick her up.

Before Bonnibel could even get up, Marceline rolled down the windows to call the first greeting that came to mind. "Get in loser,"

Bonnibel carefully opened the door to Marceline's black saloon, sliding into the passenger seat and somehow closing the door quietly behind her.

"You're drunk." Bonnibel observed --well, it was more like a statement, to be completely honest. "And I smell weed,"

"Shit, man, calm the fuck down." Marceline said half seriously through laughter. "I didn't offer to pick you up for you to shit on my life choices, Bonnibel."

" _Poor_ life choices." The blonde corrected over the sound of Marceline putting the radio on and taking the hand brake off.

They resumed in semi silence; Marceline always found it difficult to not hum the songs she knew, and Bonnibel occasionally cleared her throat to alert the other woman when the light changed to green.

"Are you sure you should be driving?" She asked at one of the red lights, making sure to keep her eye on it just in case.

Marceline snorted. "Stop worrying, I only had half a blunt and some booze. It's not like I'm over the limit."

"I'm not _worrying_ , Marceline." Bonnibel bit back. "It was just a question, geez, and apparently I'm the uptight one?"

Marceline scowled back at the road, really putting her foot down when the green light appeared. A quick glance to her left and she saw it had the desired effect on Bonnibel, now gripping the edge of the seat and as tense as ever.

"I forgot you lived at the fucking edge of town," The driver finally grouched after a ten minute break listening to adverts and one song by Say Anything on the radio.

"I'm sorry it's such an inconvenience for you," the blonde muttered back irritably. Marceline just glared a little harder and hunched over the steering wheel. "Would you prefer it if I lived in the centre of town? Or, even better, in another country?"

Marceline resumed her scowling, but Bonnibel could have sworn she had hissed a 'sorry, _princess_ ' under her breath. 

As they neared the west side of town, the one with all the posh estates and expensive hotels with nice views, Marceline finally heard the radio presenter announce a song that was actually okay.

And as Bonnibel got out of the car with one last glance at the other woman, a very familiar set of words greeted her before she slammed the door shut.

 _"Do you wanna come over later, to my house?_  
Watch American beauty in the dark.  
And I'll hold your hand till the very end, the very end."

 


	4. Chapter Four - Gum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i didn't get much sleep last night, but that's alright; it was worth it just to see you move the hair from your eyes and smile like you do"

Marceline often found herself at parties that she hadn't been invited to. Gate crashing had always been her specialty; ever since she showed up to a house party that one of the older kids had thrown when she was in high school. That was when she had her first sip of proper alcohol, not that cheap shit that she and a few friends would buy with their fake ID's for a sleepover. 

This party reminded her of that one. The girls were practically wearing nothing, leaving Marceline feeling very overdressed in her denim jacket and white shirt, and the boys were collecting in throngs of masculinity and hormones. 

There were a few people at this party that struck Marceline as odd, though, one of them being a guy wearing a smart shirt and tie, sipping his booze as if he was trying to hide his face. Another one was a girl, not that older than Marceline but one of the only girls at this damn party that was wearing something acceptable in everyday life. Marceline ignored them and pushed past a few of the people to the third and final person that truly stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Bonnibel was stood on one of the tables, dancing and yelling in front of three guys who were all watching intently. Marceline felt slightly sick just watching her, but then her eyes caught sight of a bag in the other girls hand made her mind click as to why she was acting like she was. 

"C'mon, Princess," She breathed, reaching out to pull her friend down off the table. Marceline was not expecting Bonnibel to come falling into her like a ton of bricks, smelling like booze and drugs and sweat. The three idiot guys didn't seem too happy about the fact that Marceline was taking away their entertainment and stood up from the couch. Marceline heaved Bonnibel through the masses of flesh and alcohol, and managed to get Bonnibel out of the apartment and away from the three guys. 

"What the fuck is this?" She questioned Bonnibel, holding her at arms length when they were finally out on the street. "You're supposed to be good, not doing hardcore drugs and stripping off for some random guys."

Bonnibel opened her mouth to say something, eyes struggling to focus and stay open, but a funny little burbling noise came from the back of her throat and she promptly threw up right onto Marceline's shoes. 

"What did they give you?" Marceline asked a little more gently, choosing to ignore the vomit on her shoes and instead making sure that Bonnibel was completely okay. "Was it weed?"

The blonde shook her head.

"Pills?" A nod. "Fuck, okay. We need to get that out of your system. Think you can throw up again?"

There were many things that Marceline assumed that she could be doing at four am on a friday night. One of them was finish off a bottle of whiskey from a party she had thrown last week, another was get high and maybe write something for her band. Holding her exes hair back as she threw up onto the street was not one of them. 

She phoned Keila to come pick them up. 

"You know, I was in the middle of rolling a joint when you called," Marceline glanced up from the girl still hunched over, and smiled when she saw Keila leaning out the window in her beat up pick up, the red paint fading and peeling from the doors. "You're lucky I love you,"

"I know, I know," Marceline replied with an eye roll. "D'you mind if Bon throws up in there?"

Keila paused, thought about it, and then shrugged. "I've had worse." 

 


	5. Chapter Five - Anyway,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kind of a follow on from last chapter.

Bonnibel had assumed that she would have woken up in a room that wasn't familiar, next to a guy that she didn't know, with a hangover that she could have prevented. 

Instead Bonnibel awoke to the gentle sound of a bass. It was odd how familiar everything felt, the smell of the duvet and the scent of breakfast lingering in the air. She had called Marceline, then. 

Honestly, she was kind of happy that she hadn't called her roommate. Lilly would have chastised her about the dangers of going to a random party to get drugged up, would have locked Bonnibel in her room for a day so that she could keep an eye on her.

But Marceline would bring back memories and Bonnibel wasn't ready to talk about feelings. 

The wooden floor felt cold beneath her feet as she swung her legs off the edge of her exes bed. 

Bonnibel stood with a wobble, head throbbing in protest as she walked over to the door and left the room. The gentle strumming gradually got louder and Bonnibel tiptoed downstairs. 

"Feeling better?" 

Bonnibel glanced over to the kitchen, finding Marceline holding a plate in her hand, green eyes full of concern. Bonnibel wanted to throw up again.  

"What did you do with my clothes?" For both of their benefits, she said it gently. She glanced down at herself to evaluate the outfit that Marceline had given her, an old band shirt and some pyjama shorts. Not too shabby, but definitely too Marceline. 

"You threw up on 'em." Marceline stated simply. "Keila shoved your things in the wash though, I don't think they'll be dry yet."

Bonnibel sighed, realising that she would have to stay for longer than necessary, and padded further into the kitchen to sit down on one of the two chairs. 

Marceline stood for a while, vaguely reminding Bonnibel like a fish out of water with the way her mouth worked, but soon found the words she was looking for and held the plate out in front of her. "I made you breakfast; sunny side up, yeah?" 

And Bonnibel suddenly found it very hard to not cry. It wasn't like the topic of eggs had some sort of effect on her or anything, she just missed Marceline and waking up to breakfast in the morning. 

The other girl continued to stand their awkwardly, not really doing anything until Bonnibel jumped out of her seat to wrap her up in a hug. 

"What happened to our lives, Marcy?" A sniffle, waiting for Marceline to tell her the answer. All that came was a soft sigh as she put the plate on the kitchen counter. 

"Well, since you broke up with me I think I should be asking the same question." 

Bonnibel frowned into Marceline's shoulder. "To be fair, you cheated on me." 

For what seemed to be the fifth time that morning, Marceline couldn't quite manage to get her words out. 

"I didn't- he and I weren't-" Bonnibel waited for her answer with baited breath, but wasn't prepared whatsoever for the sob that came from the older girl. 

From the living room, the strumming evened out into a tune that Bonnibel barely remembered the name of. 

"If you weren't cheating on me, then what happened?"

What came out of Marceline's mouth made Bonnibel realise that maybe she shouldn't have left five years ago. 

"Ash forced me into it, I- I couldn't move and I think that he- he- drugged me."


	6. Chapter 6 - Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final instalment of bhahtgoowtcm. thank you for reading! 
> 
> (i may or may not have a few spare chapters that never really made the cut if y’all are interested).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been a long time coming.

There was something odd about how easy it was for Bonnibel to allow Marceline back into her life. Not _fully_ of course, but she came over and they slept on Bonnie’s couch on the weekends. They never really said anything about how Marceline’s toothbrush ended up in the other girls bathroom, or how they pretty much began to share a joint wardrobe; Bonnibel enjoying the baggy hoodies while Marceline suddenly had a clean shirt to wear every day of the week.

“You seem happier,” Braco murmured from behind a few beakers, one night in the lab. “now that Marceline’s back.” He clarified. 

Bonnie wanted to tell him that Marceline had never left, Bonnibel hadn’t let her leave, really. “I guess I just missed her, we were friends back in high school.” She said instead, not daring to mention the amount of times they had kissed outside the college building, or made love in Marceline’s bed during their last year of uni together.

Braco left the conversation there, leaving the building not too long after that. Marceline picked her up now anyways, Braco had found that out pretty quickly.

“Nerd alert?” Marceline’s voice drifted through the lab, knuckles tapping the doorframe lightly. “You ready to go home?” 

_Home_. It rolled off the older woman’s tongue so perfectly. Bonnibel cleared her papers away into a neat pile and stood and took a good look at home, dressed in a varsity jacket and classic skinny jeans. She even had the same style combat boots as when they first met in high school.

 

Marceline didn’t say anything when Bonnibel leaned up to kiss her soundly, but the dampness left on her cheeks showed her that she felt the same way. 


End file.
